The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S14E20

Episode Date: June 28, 2020

 It’s Episode 20 of Season 14. This week we conjure spells for you about trying to look after yourself and your loved ones.  “My Son” written by Haley Hendershot (Story starts around 00:05:25) TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Narrator – Nikolle Doolin, Jaime – Elie Hirschman“Ten Seconds” written by Wayne Power (Story starts around 00:19:00)Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Eddy – Matthew Bradford, Mom – Alexis Bristowe, Man – Peter Lewis“Insides” written by C.J. Robinson (Story starts around 00:28:45)TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Alex – Kyle Akers, Megan – Jessica McEvoy, Chloe – Addison Peacock, Alex’s mom – Erin Lillis“Nana” written by Scott Weisser (Story starts around 01:00:10)Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Narrator – Dan Zappulla, Nana – Erin Lillis, Sylvia – Sarah Ruth Thomas“The Terrible Man” written by David H. Varley (Story starts around 01:12:00)Produced by: Jeff ClementCast: Narrator – David Ault, Gentleman – Andy Cresswell“Becoming Robby Shelton” written by John Coming (Story starts around 01:43:50)TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Jesse CornettCast: Kyle – Atticus Jackson, Robby – Graham Rowat, Joan – Sarah Ruth Thomas, Delaney – Nichole Goodnight, The Tall Man – Graham RowatClick here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast Click here to enter the NoSleep Movie Poster ContestExecutive Producer & Host: David CummingsMusical score composed by: Brandon Boone“My Son” illustration courtesy of Naomi RonkeAudio program ©2020 – Creative Reason Media Inc. – All Rights Reserved – No reproduction or use of this content is permitted without the express written consent of Creative Reason Media Inc. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hi, I'm Nicole Goodnight. You may know me as voice actor extraordinaire from the No Sleep podcast, but what you don't know is that I have a secret second career. My second career is a pretty strenuous one. It involves a lot of spinning around poles, kicking my legs up high, swinging around. It involves being very flexible, wearing tight, skimpy clothing, and getting others fired up. That's right, I'm a superhero. I can end a day pretty stressed and with some fairly major back pain. So for a long time now, I've been looking to ease these typical superhero weapons. As you may know, I've been continuing to use a certain new product. Taking care of yourself doesn't need to be difficult. CBD is great for that because you can easily slip it into your routine.

As I've continued to use CBD, my back pain has become even easier to manage over time, and my stress levels are remaining low, but do you think weird tasting oil from a dropper is the best it gets? I don't. Meet Caliper, a better way to consume CBD. Caliper believes everyone deserves a simple way to feel better. It's not an oil, it's a powder, so you can easily mix it in with any food. or drink. And it's completely tasteless so it won't impact on what you're eating or drinking. So there's no weird taste, none of that oily residue, or unpleasant feeling in your mouth.

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CBD comes in affordable 10 and 30-count packs. You can get started for under $20.00. Individual packets give you the benefits of CBD wherever you go, and unlike some products, Caliper is completely THC-free. All the goodness of CBD with no high, and Caliper's powder has all natural, non-GMO ingredients, no fillers, added chemicals, or artificial flavors. Get 20% off your first order when you use promo code no sleep at trycaliper.com slash no sleep. You can try Caliper CBD risk-free for 30 days.

And if you don't love it, they'll give you a full refund. and I personally love it. P.S. don't tell anyone I'm a superhero. I'm trying to keep my secret identity. So remember, that's trycaliper.com slash no sleep. And don't forget promo code No Sleep for 20% off of your first order. In our world, there is magic in the darkness. Sorcery and incantations which bring us closer to the essence of the night.

Come enter our black. magic shop where we will conjure up tales to frighten and disturb. This journey will be spellbinding. Brace yourself for the No Sleep podcast. Welcome visitors to the No Sleep Magic Shop. I'm your proprietor David Cummings. This week we conjure spells for you about trying to look after yourself and your loved ones. Our No Sleep movie poster contest has entered the final stage. Thanks to the many people who voted for the No Sleep stories they would like to see turned into one of our illustrator, Sabu's iconic movie-style posters. The five finalists have been tallied and are awaiting your votes.

The finalists are The Mummer Man, the Search and Rescue series, The Pancake Family, the things we see in the woods, and my anime body pillow. In the show notes, you'll find a link to the voting form. And while an email address isn't required to vote, if you would like to be entered into the contest to win a mounted poster of the winning selection, just include your email address when you vote.

And as always, we never spam or sell your email. So pick your story and make a note to cast your vote, so you can gloat and jump in a moat. I'm not sure why I wrote that. Now, close your eyes and embrace the magic. In our first tale, we witness a single mother driving her kid to therapy. Her boy's hallucinations can get rather violent and unpleasant, and his therapist really thinks they're making progress.

But in this tale, shared with us by author Haley Hendershot, the benefits of therapy aren't necessarily visible to the mother, leaving her quite concerned. Performing this tale are Nicole Doolin and Ellie Hirschman. So always keep an eye on your kids and what they might be visualizing. Maybe question where that's coming from and why. After all, parents say they only want the best for my son. I saw them again today, Mommy. I glanced in the rearview mirror at my son, who was mindlessly running his fingers through a book in his booster seat.

Who'd you see, baby? Jamie's wandering hand stopped on a random page, as he tilted his head up with an expressionless stare. I have to admit, for a seven-year-old little boy, he was really good at making eye contact. The Melty Men. Jamie's occurrences with the Melty Men was not at all new. In fact, we had been dealing with his visions of them since he was able to talk. After years of struggling with this, with the help of a specialist, the two of us were melty men free for almost two months.

Oh? I thought Dr. Young helped you send them back to Fireworld. He shifted in his seat, snapping the book shut. Fiery gates, not Fireworld. I focused my eyes on the road, realizing this conversation was about to unwrapers. all of our hard work and $500 therapy sessions. Right, sorry. Fiery Gates.

Jamie, I know they get mad when you talk to me about them, but are the Melty Men at least being nice this time? His voice perked up and a smile spread across his face. Oh, yeah. They said, sorry for my arms and my neck. They don't want to hurt me no more. They let me draw them now, too. I don't got to hide.

hide my pictures. The melty men had gotten increasingly aggressive as Jamie got older. At one point, his hallucinations had instructed him to light his arms on fire by dousing them with gasoline and pressing matches to his skin. Luckily, I caught him before he could cause too much damage. However, Scara still litter sections were the flames I couldn't put out in time ignited. I don't know which was worse. This or the time he got a hold of a case.

kitchen knife and jabbed it into his neck because his visions told him to. Fourteen days in the hospital. Another 30 days in a psych ward. Three appalling visits from CPS. And $20,000 is what a knife to the neck costs. Who knew? Is that so? They aren't going to be mad at me for looking at your sketches anymore? Jamie nodded excitedly. Uh-huh. Want to see one now? Not right now, baby. I have to keep my eyes on the road. The truth was, I couldn't stomach another image of the melty men. Jamie drew incredibly detailed pictures of bony human figures with their flesh peeling off,

oozing yellow, chunky pus. Their eyes were bright white, sunken, while their mouths held a terrifying frozen scream. Sometimes the drawings included those horribly disfigured things gruesomely murdering Jamie. I'll never forget the day his teacher called me in for a meeting. During class, he had sketched himself sitting at a dinner table, fork and knife in hand, eating his own organs that spilled out of a large gaping hole in his stomach. The melty men were laughing hysterically behind him.

While Jamie might have the art skills of Picasso, So his style is quite disturbing and got him kicked out of public school. I know, Mommy. We don't want to crash like Daddy. I, I just, I miss seeing him. After the crash, though, not before. He's a lot more beautiful after. I want to talk to him. I can't know more because...

I could tell he was getting upset. He always tried to hide his tears to act tough. Three months before, my husband Leo, Jamie's father, was teaboned by a drunk driver on the way home from getting surprise presents for Jamie's birthday. The first responder said he was dead upon impact. His spine was snapped clean in half and most likely didn't even know what happened. This traumatic freak accident caused Jamie to hallucinate that Leo was with him, except with a crooked back. I wasn't too worried that his illness had manifested and added my husband to his collection. At least this one comforted him.

Honestly, I think Jamie was taking his dad's death harder than I was. Because of Dr. Young? Did he send Daddy somewhere to? He took a deep breath, sounding as if he shuddered. No, Dr. Young can't make Daddy go away. He can't go away until he's happy. It's Saul. He won't let me see Daddy. By this time, I was used to new figures invading Jamie's mind,

but having one ward off another was news to me. Well, I've never heard of Saul before. Aren't you going to introduce me? Who is he? While adjusting the mirror, I saw him biting his lip. Like what I had just asked was absolutely forbidden. Um, Saul is... The keeper of the fiery gates.

He's real powerful and scary. The melty men are scared of him. They do what he says. I wish... His sentence abruptly ended as he began to whisper to his newfound invisible friend. I was only joking. No, please don't. I'll do anything.

Don't make me do it again. Usually I didn't interfere with Jamie's conversations between him and his hallucinations. I'd learn that I'd learn that. only made them worse, but this one caused a lot of concern. Everything all right back there? His head hung low, hunkering like an injured dog. Saul says I'm not allowed to talk to you about him. As usual, for some reason, these things he saw like to keep everything hush-hush. I shouldn't have expected anything different from this one. Does Saul have anything else to say? Jamie turned to the seat beside him and mumbled something I couldn't make out,

before nodding his head like he had heard a reply clear as day. He says, don't worry. Tessa's okay. She can see, not like me, like you and Daddy, like everyone else. But she will be sick for a very long time. Oh, and she has blonde curly hair like Daddy. A wave of terror washed over me. I looked down at my growing belly that was stretching all of my clothes.

I was five months along. I remembered the day I found out I was pregnant. After weeks of denying it, I finally mustered up the courage to take a pregnancy test. When I saw the positive sign, I burst into tears, wailing in Leo's arms. We had both vowed to never have another child because we couldn't bear the thought of putting another human

through what Jamie deals with every day. Even though there was a small child, chance that the fluke in our genetics would happen again. It was one we couldn't afford to take. Our biggest fear was another child that could see like Jamie. Leo and I succeeded for seven years due to our carefulness, but somehow, somewhere, there was a slip-up, and I was carrying the result. The death of my husband made the pregnancy even harder to deal with. Most of the time I pretended the baby didn't exist. So much so that I hadn't told anyone, not even Jamie, I found out it was a girl,

or that she was going to be called Tessa, a name Leo was fond of. I made a U-turn in the road just as I reached the therapist's office. No doctor could fix this. For years I scrambled to pin a diagnosis on my child, just to give myself a sense of relief. I should have known it wasn't schizophrenia, psychosis, imaginary friends. The medications never worked. The psychiatrist visits never helped. And imaginary friends can't tell secrets. I felt so stupid. I was so caught up in the idea that he could be fixed. I didn't realize that this was far beyond what any medical practice could handle. It was impossible

for him to have an extensive vocabulary that geniuses would blush over at such a young age. It was impossible for him to imagine these grotesque monsters that haunted him. It was impossible for him to draw gory murder scenes with the skills of a trained artist that took 20 years to perfect their craft. It was impossible for him to see his dad, long after he died, describing the love of my life to an absolute tea. And it was extremely impossible for him to know, not only that his sister would have blonde hair before she had even taken a breath on earth, but also that Tessa didn't have his condition. After all, my son was born blind. Hi folks, Cummings here. More horror to come, but here's something important. I'm hungry. That's

right. Hungry for food. You know the thing most people are hungry for? Anyway, the point is, I'm David Cummings, which means I'm really important, and more importantly, really busy. That means I can't just cook food on a whim because I'm neck-deep in horror. So what do I do in order to satiate my hunger despite literally being unable to take a single second out of my day to cook? Why, I use DoorDash.

DoorDash delivers food right to your door without you having to spend time going out, avoiding autograph seekers or meteors. But how can you have a wide range of exciting meals without going out. Again, DoorDash. In 2020, delivery is more than just pizza. With a selection of your favorite flavors from across the globe,

you can order delicious, interesting meals from the comfort of your living room. Ordering is easy. You open the DoorDash app, choose what you want to eat, and your food will be delivered to you, wherever you are. Not only is your favorite pizza joint already on DoorDash,

but there are over 310,000 restaurant partners in 4,000 cities, so you might find a new favorite too. With door-to-door delivery in all 50 U.S. states, Puerto Rico, Canada, and Australia, you can order from your local go-toes or choose from your favorite national restaurants like Chipotle, Wendy's, The Cheesecake Factory, and more. With DoorDash, you can have an elaborate meal or a quick snack sent straight to your door, allowing you and your family to stay safe.

There's no need to start chowing down on household items just yet. And right now, our listeners can get $5 off their first order of $15 or more when you download the Door Dash app and enter code No Sleep. That's $5 off your first order when you download the Door Dash app in the app store and enter code No Sleep. So don't feel restricted. Give your taste buds a world tour without ever leaving your living room. Now, I've got to end this.

I'm far too busy for ad reads. Oh, but don't forget, that's code No Sleep for. or $5 off your first order with DoorDash. And now, back to the show. You can't beat a nice, hot, relaxing bath. Bubbles, bath bombs, and bearing it all. But a luxurious soak in the tub is just for adults, apparently. If you're a kid and you enjoy baths, then you're getting bullied for it.

Because what won't kids find as an excuse to pick on someone? But in this tale, shared with us by author Wayne Power, switching to showers isn't quite so simple for our friend Eddie. There's something off about his shower experiences. Performing this tale are Matthew Bradford, Alexis Bristow, and Peter Lewis. So take the plunge and take a shower. But beware those brief moments when you close your eyes to rinse off your hair. They might seem like they last forever, even if it's only 10 seconds.

Ten seconds. It doesn't sound very long, does it? Most people would be thrilled if everyday activities only took this minimal amount of time. Sometimes, though, it can feel like an eternity. I will remember that insignificant amount of time always, reliving those moments every time I dream, close my eyes, and, of course, shower. I was 11 or 12 when I started getting showers. I was a bath kid up until that point. I loved relaxing and playing in the warm water.

I looked forward to it. I didn't think it was strange or funny to enjoy them until the kids at school made it perfectly clear it was. The topic of hygiene and shower routines came up one health class. We were at the age where our bodies would start changing soon. New hair in places and with it, new odors our bodies didn't release before. As Mr. Hayward went on about shower this and shower that, I shot up my hand and blurted out. Bath are fine, too, right, sir?

He didn't even have a chance to answer me before I felt them. The eyes of my classmates turning towards me, grins starting to form throughout the room like they shared a collective mind. The laughter followed, and in between the sounds of mindless gaffing and the teacher trying to silence the class, I started to hear them. I sank into my desk. My stomach felt like it was doing backflifts. I had never been so humiliated. In a matter of minutes, I had turned myself into the brunt of a class-wide joke. That evening over dinner, my mom did her usual routine of asking me what was new and, if anything eventful, it happened at school.

Most times, I said same old, same old. Not that night, however. I just looked down at my half-eaten potatoes, stirring them around on my plate. Eddie, what's wrong? My mom moved her seat closer to me. A concerned look had completely overtaken her face. She was worried about her only child like any good mother would be. With a heavy sigh and the tears forming in my eyes,

I looked towards my mother and told her everything. After she gave me some comforting words about kids being cruel and how I shouldn't let it bother me, I told her I would be okay and it was just a bad day. She puttered around the kitchen, tidying up, and offered me a bowl of ice cream to end the day, right? I'm going to do it. What was that, honey? I'm going to start showering, Mom.

No more baths, nor being a baby. They can't make fun of me if there's nothing to make fun of. That's how it started. Something that should have been so simple. If only I could have known. How could I? Showering was fine at first. It was a much faster process than waiting for a time.

tub to fill up, and I enjoyed the speed of it. It wasn't as relaxing, but it was in and out and done. The biggest difference, however, was the curtain. You see, when you get a bath, there's no reason to close the curtain. The shower, though, well, it would make a mess if the curtain wasn't pulled over. It doesn't sound like a big deal, but something about it made me uneasy. I knew no one could come in. It was just my mom and me, plus the door would be locked. Mom would knock if she needed something before using the key on the door. But then why did I feel this way? Something I couldn't explain.

Just this feeling. I would peek out around the dark blue curtain every few moments just to make sure I was alone. I know it sounds silly. It just made me feel better. The worst part came when it was time to wash my hair and close my eyes. I still remember it. I mean, it's not something you forget. I had showered dozens of times at this point.

Closing my eyes and washing my hair was always the worst of it. That day, however, as I started to rub the shampoo into my hair, it happened. That overwhelming feeling of dread. Something was watching me. I knew it. Your body has a way of sensing these things. How could that be, though?

Mom's not in here. I have the door locked. It's impossible. It was only a little. Almost a whimper, but it was there. Someone, no, something, was clearing their throat. That uneasiness drifted away and was replaced with pure fear. I frantically scrubbed at my head and put it under the water. One, the soap bubbles forming and cascading down my body as I began to breathe faster, quit gasps of air, entering and exiting my lungs as the panic sank in.

Two, why did I use so much shampoo? The soap was never out. ending. Three, my quick breath hastened as I was going into a full-on panic attack. It was there. I knew it was there, watching me. Four, did the shower curtain just ruffle? Five, I stepped away from the curtain, placing my back against the back wall of the shower and opened my eyes. Six, the soapy water burned my eyes as I opened them, but I didn't care. I had to know what was there. I rubbed up my face quickly to help with my vision. Seven, My eyesight was blurry, but it would do. I reached towards the curtain slowly.

Eight. As I gripped the curtain, I suddenly realized my short, quick breaths had disappeared. In fact, I wasn't breathing at all. Nine. With my breath held in me shaking, I pulled the curtain to the side, preparing to come face to face with my tormentor. Ten. Nothing. There was nothing there.

Did I imagine the noise? had my mind created the apparent intruder in my heightened state of fear. I exhaled my breath and closed the curtain. I quickly finished getting the shampoo out of my hair and turned off the shower. I stepped out of my empty bathroom and started drying myself off, thinking to myself how foolish I was. Of course nothing was in here. I got myself so worked up for nothing.

I stepped towards the sink, rubbing at my wet hair with a towel to get the excess water. As I put the towel down, I instinctively reached out to wipe the residue the steam always left on the mirror. My heart sank, barely visible, obstructed by the wet mirror. Someone was behind me. I spun around. No one. I frantically looked back at the mirror. He was clearly there looking at me.

I wiped away the water, and he vanished. I fell forward, catching my hands at the edge of the sink. I thought I was going to throw up. I stared down into the sink, trying to wrap my head around what had been in the mirror. I turned white. It's more fun. I woke up in a heap on the bathroom floor. My mom at my side.

She told me how she heard a bang and had come running, finding me on the floor. She explained I must have slipped on the water getting out of the shower and hit my head. I looked up at her, and I agreed. I couldn't tell her. Or anyone, for that matter. Who would believe me? They would say it was a dream. Something brought on from hitting my head.

And maybe it was. How could I know for sure? Regardless, I am recounting this from the comfort of a nice, hot bath. The shower curtain open as far as it can go. After all, why risk it? It's easy to let yourself go after a breakup. You stop eating healthy, fail to brush your hair, Don't get enough exercise.

Don't pay attention to the hole that's opening up in the side of your body. Okay, maybe that last one is somewhat unique. But in this tale, shared with us by author C.J. Robinson, that's exactly what our friend Alex is dealing with, even if initially he's not that concerned. Performing this tale are Kyle Akers, Jessica McAvoy, Addison Peacock, and Aaron Lillis. So sure, don't.

Don't worry about the fact that your body's literally falling apart, at least until you start hearing strange sounds coming from your insides. It wasn't meditation that led me to nirvana, nor was it repentance or prayer. I don't know why my gift was bestowed on me. Perhaps my pure desperation echoed in some far corner of heaven and an angel took pity on me. But I'm leaving. If I'm lucky, I won't be coming back. It's not often that someone gets a second chance. I'm writing this, leaving it open on my old laptop,

so those who come looking for me won't worry. I did my best to capture my feelings, so you truly understand that I have found something beautiful. So please, don't worry. It started about a month ago, as I drifted along the edge of consciousness and sleep. The brisk January air seeped into my townhouse through the thin walls and cheap windows.

The chill made it difficult to fall asleep, some nights, but I'd be damned to turn on my heater. At that point, I was more interested in spending my money on extracurriculars. An afterwork beer to take the edge off of the day, followed by a few more, a whiskey on the couch to drive out the chill, another one, or two, or four, to rust the gears of self-destructive thoughts that had ceaselessly chugged on since she left. I started up at the ceiling and breathed heavily, trying to see my breath in the chill. not quite cool enough. I could hear my neighbors through the shared bedroom wall,

unable to decipher words out of the barely audible murmurs. I listened passively, but I was surprised to hear my neighbors at all. There are a couple in their mid-30s that had either one average toddler or an entire herd of stampeding buffalo. Normally the whole family was dead asleep by 10 p.m. One of the parents slamming the door at 6 in the morning, and the child shaking the walls at 7. I strained my ears for a little longer,

annoyed that I couldn't make out words just the flow of conversation. Digging into my mismatch blanket cocoon, I willed myself to sleep. My next day started out about on par with my past two months. Woke up late, leery after a night of drinking, shower barely heated up. Car wouldn't start, so I had to take the bus. Guy next to me on the bus was both anti-deodorant and anti-headphones. Everything I deserved incarnate. I took her to Louise for dinner and we got drinks after.

Megan finished buttoning up her work shirt. I tossed my backpack into my work cubby and pulled out my own Java Shack shirt. Nice, man. You like her? Eh, she was okay. I don't think I'll hear from her again, though. Why's that? I yanked off my shirt and threw it on top of my bag.

She didn't laugh at a single one of my jokes. Yeah, well, you're not funny. Yeah, exactly, though. She would have laughed anyway if she liked me. Hey, what's that? Her sentences ran together, so I missed it. the question, until a cold finger jabbed the bear's skin on my side. I jumped. Hey. What is that? A cut? I rubbed the spot, willing away the ghost touch of her freezing finger, but my hands weren't any warmer.

A small dip in my skin caused me to gag a little at the alien feeling. I turned towards the warped cheap mirror that hung haphazardly next to her cubbies, craning my head far over my shoulder. About five inches below my right armpit, there was a divot. I ran my finger. I ran my finger I got her fingers over it a few times trying to find pain. There was none, so I shrugged. No idea. Let me get a better look. It could be the start of a staff infection.

Don't touch me with your zombie fingers. I slammed my work shirt over my head. They're not that cold. You should let me look at it. My brother is a nurse. Megan breathed on her hands in an attempt to infuse them with warmth. I very much doubted that it would work. I just did my hat.

That makes you a nurse too? Well, at least keep an eye on it and let me know if it gets worse. I didn't reply. Promise you'll tell me if it gets worse, Alex. Fine! I knew better than to push Megan when she wanted something. She just rolled her eyes and tugged her long ponytail through her hat. Work had been busy enough that Megan agreed to grab a wind-down beer with me.

The weather that day had drawn out a larger crowd than normal. Perhaps our shop's beach theme, complete with palm trees, was especially enticing in the dead of winter. A light at the end of the tunnel. Too bad it was just a farce of cheap spotlights and plastic plants. Have you talked to Chloe at all? Megan's tone was casual, but the question made my stomach clench. I shook my head and took a long drink of beer. Have you?

Uh, yeah. I hated when she was like this, making me drag information out of her. Oh yeah? She doing okay? I tried to sound as if I didn't care. In reality, I checked her Instagram daily. I knew how she was doing, significantly better than me, and injustice through and through. Megan shrugged and twirled her beer bottle between her hands. She asked me the same question about you.

And what did you tell her? Tell her I'm doing great. Maybe you can tell her new boyfriend that too when you all hang out. I told her the same thing I told you. Nothing. Megan, being the bigger person, decided to ignore the slight, instead keeping the peace. I opted to finish my beer instead of replying. Our stilted silence was soon interrupted by the buzz of Megan's phone.

Oh, I think I gotta go. You're gonna be okay? Megan touched my shoulder and I shrugged her hand off of me. Yeah, sure. I'd rather hang out with the new power couple, too. Make sure to tell Chloe and that asshole I said hi. What are you talking about? No, I get it.

I'd rather hang out with them too, rather than a sad fuck like me. I'm not going to see Chloe. Right. Who you going to see then? One of your many other friends? I could tell my comment irked her. I didn't feel bad, though. She had it coming for choosing Chloe over me.

Now you're pissing me off. This has been hard for me too, you know. I love Chloe and you. You keep pushing people away, and eventually you'll get what you're asking for. Megan slapped a few dollars down on the counter and stocked out. A few hours and beers later, and I was ready to brave the outside. Wobbling my way along the icy sidewalks I barely. felt the cold. Either it was warmer than it had been earlier, or my beer blanket was doing a great

job. Slumping down, I lit a cigarette and fiddle with my phone. I knew I'd been too harsh on Megan. I opened up my messages, intending to send her an apology. Instead, I saw I had a message from her. It was a screenshot of the conversation between her and that girl she had just gone out with from earlier in the night, asking her to come over. Her silent and pointed proof that I had acted like a tool. Rather than being relieved that Megan hadn't gone to Chloe's, I felt tears well up. Everyone had someone, except me. I punched in the number and raised my phone to my ear before any common sense could stop me. No answer.

I slammed the end button on my phone and tossed my cigarette button to the street. From far away, I heard a couple laughing and goofing around. Their happiness made me want to throw up. Luck was on my side when the bus arrived before I had to endure the sight of the couple in love. I woke early to the sound of the neighbor's kids dropping something on the floor and giggling. Not like they hadn't kept me up all night with their incessant talking. The parents' chatter had droned on all night. Lucky for me I had a reliant sleep aid.

Groaning, I pushed myself up out of my favorite chair. My back cracked in three places and the tendons in my neck screamed as I righted my head, reaffirming that the chair wasn't the best place to sleep. Not that I had many options. At this point I had more rooms than furniture. splitting mine and Chloe's stuff hadn't gone right down the middle. Glancing at my phone, I saw that I was late for work and had managed to scroll all the way back to 2007 on Chloe's Facebook timeline the night before. I could only pray that I hadn't accidentally tapped like on any of them.

Alex, you really look like shit. This was the first thing that Megan said to me as I rolled into the break room. Good morning to you too. Neighbors kept me up. I knew I should apologize for last night, but really didn't want to. Yeah. Yeah, I bet that was it. Your neighbors.

She waved her hand in front of her nose. I probably looked and smelled as bad as I felt. I waited for her to mention what a prick I'd been to her yesterday. Megan was gracious enough not to. Or maybe I was so pathetic she felt obligated to let it go. For real, they were talking all night. I threw off my shirt, same one as yesterday. Hey, do you know that that's gotten way bigger?

What has? That. I felt the press of her cold finger in my side. Jesus, stop doing that. I swear, it's doubled in size. You really need to get to a doctor. I didn't even care who turned to look at it in the warped mirror. I just buttoned up my shirt.

Who cares? A bright smile tugged at my face. Chloe practically glowed in happiness next to me. Her bright curls bounced around her face, tangled pink from the setting sun. I wore a cheesy party hat that declared, It's my birthday. That was August 2016.

My fingers stroked the screen inadvertently zooming the picture. We'd been so happy then, and just moved in together. Getting up for my well-worn chair, I drained the last of my bottle. I could hear my neighbors through the walls. It sounded like they were having a party.

Voices and laughter mingled together, louder than ever. Sudden anger flushed through my veins. Did they need to rub their happiness in my face? I banged my fist against the wall. Shut the fuck up! A shower, I decided, running my fingers through my hair. Something besides alcohol wore me back up. And maybe a beer to go along with the shower.

It wasn't my fault that drinking and showering went hand in hand. My bare feet slapped across the linoleum as I made my way to the kitchen. Flipping the switch, I was simultaneously surprised by the lack of light and reminded that the bulb burnt out weeks ago. I'll change it tomorrow. promised myself, as I cracked open the fridge and dragged out a beer. The small interior bulb filled the kitchen with light, and I was reminded why I hadn't bothered to change the light bulb. My kitchen was much like the rest of my townhouse, huge, cold, and

empty. Staring into a dirty corner, my mind drifted. There used to be a table there, a scrubbed wooden table with Chloe's hand-croached lilac doily, and sometimes when they were in season, a mason jar filled with sunflowers that I would buy for her. Sighing, I closed the door, and opened my beer, throwing the cap somewhere into the darkened corner. Why is it now that I could remember that sunflowers are Chloe's favorite flowers, but it was so hard for me when it actually mattered? I crouched on the floor, a sudden and unwelcome wave of sobs crashing down on me. I missed my Chloe. I missed her so goddamn much.

Waiting for the shower water to warm, I worked mechanically to undress. If I was careful, I could avoid touching myself with my cold hands. If I was extra careful, I could avoid seeing my reflection. my empty eyes swollen, nose beat red. I wasn't careful enough. A dark divot caught my attention in the mirror. Megan hadn't been lying. What had felt piece-sized the previous day was now the width of my fingertip.

Almost perfectly round, skin caved inward, creating a deep tunnel into my body. Whether through the fog on the mirror or the fog in my alcohol-addled brain, I couldn't see where it ended. Bile filled my throat. Jumping in the shower, warmth began to start. thaw my frozen limbs. I could feel the water running over my newfound cavity. It didn't hurt, but it felt wrong, different. A sudden shift in what I knew about my body. I remember a similar feeling from when I got my braces off as a kid. I had run my tongue across the impossibly smooth

surface of my teeth for a week before I got used to it. It was a difference that needed to be poked and prodded. I moved my hand towards the whole apprehensive. If it hurt, I'd go to the doctor. I promised myself. I touched along the edges and experienced vertigo with the strange sensation. It didn't hurt. Holding my breath,

I dared to explore further, pushing against the inside edges. There was no discomfort, but I could feel the pressure. I pushed the tip of my finger further and further, until my finger was all the way in. I wiggled it a little.

No end in sight. I pulled my finger out with a little pop. When I was a kid, my brother had taught me that sucking on my finger and snapping it out my mouth would create a sharp pop noise. Our mother hated it. After scrubbing thoroughly, I laid in bed, phone resting against my chest.

Logically, I knew I should see a doctor about whatever that was, but I couldn't bring myself to care enough. It's not like I had the money to go see a doctor anyway. Chloe would always make me go. Before. I could hear the faint singing coming through the walls. I wanted to scream at my neighbors again, but could muster the energy to move.

Instead, I would lay and endure. I decided miserably. Happy birthday to you. The words were louder than they'd been. I found myself focusing on the words, able to catch a few clearly. Happy birthday, dear Alex. I sat up in bed,

the creaking of my mattress drowning out the voices for a moment. And many more That was Chloe I couldn't be hearing what I was hearing Cake time I heard my mother call out conjuring the memory Tears filled my eyes

pressing my ear against the wall I tried to listen Had my neighbors gotten a tape of this Why would they be playing it though The wall revealed no secrets muffling the sound even more I shifted my head away I could hear myself asking Chloe for another birthday beer, the slap of birthday cake against my nephew's face and the giggle of my niece.

I searched frantically around my room. With my brother pranking me? Maybe Megan? I found nothing. I expected the tape to end, but it didn't. The party died down, but the sounds continued on. I heard the car doors slammed shut and the rev of an engine as Chloe and I got into our car to go home. There was no way this had been taped or filmed.

We were excitedly talking about how we were going to decorate the very room I now sat in. I collapsed on the bare mattress. The sound faded. I sat up in panic. It came back. The realization ripped through me like an electric shock. Tearing my shirt off, I turned in front of the mirror, twisting to get a better look. The hole was endless.

And laughter echoed out of it. My laughter. Her laughter. That's it, I thought. I had finally lost him. I was officially nuts. Marbles, gone. I didn't put my shirt back on.

I laid back and listened. Listen to our chatter. Listen to Chloe and I make love. Listen to us sleep. I didn't go to work the next day. Or the next. My phone buzzed repeatedly, but to be honest, I don't even know where it was.

Somewhere near me, I guessed, without bothering to look. For the first time in months, I felt good. I felt right. This was a gift. Manna from heaven to nourish my star of soul. Chloe and I went to the zoo. She claimed that the koalas were her favorite, but I teased her that she liked the insect house best. Hadn't she gotten angry with me for that? We watched old movies together and she fell asleep on my chest. Didn't she hate old movies? I listened to asleep and the movie drone on. I wished I could hear her heartbeat. But the hole was too deep and the sound too far away.

Digging my fingers into my skin around the hole, I tried to spread it wider. Begging for more of this beautiful gift. Everything jumped forward quickly. The standout moments of our relationship bloomed before me once again. Even moments I thought tainted with argument and anger were sweet again. After a few days, audio alone wasn't enough for me. I dug out my phone and plugged it in. A myriad of missed calls, texts, and notifications flooded the screen, but I ignored them.

Instead, I scrolled through pictures of Chloe, trying to revive my deadened imagination, just enough to add images to these sounds. It was so muffled at times. I could barely hear anything. I pushed the tips of my fingers into the hole and pried it apart, hoping to widen it and let more sound out. I desperately wished I could see what was happening. To watch Chloe smile at me. To see her stroke my hair.

Inspiration struck me. One of the few items left to me was a pair of old kitchen taunts. This particular pair looked like an oversized pair of scissors. They'd been forgotten. The growth of rust rendering them no longer usable for food. I grabbed them and dashed back to my bedroom. In front of the mirror, I turned until I found a good angle. The gift was much larger now.

The depth, endless. Chloe's laughter echoed out of the smooth, caved-in edges. I'd already tried to widen it with my fingers, but the awkward angle had not given much purchase. I tried to not think about what I was doing. The one time I had let the thought complete, I am trying to further open a gaping wound in my side. I had thrown up on the floor. When I removed my fingers, the opening had snapped back to nearly the previous size. Nearly, but not all the way.

sound reverberated outward with more confidence. That had made it worth it. And it was why I was so sure this would work. Watching in the mirror, I slowly pushed the tongue ends into the hole. I could feel them glide along the sides of the tunnel. The sensation made me gag, but I persisted to feed them into the hole. I'd wondered if I would be able to feel the cold metal brush against my heart or lungs, but there had been no resistance.

In fact, the sides of the gift were, contracted and expanded, as if trying to suck the tongs in deeper. Catching my breath, I admired my work. The tongue handle stuck out, turning me into a gaunt wind-up doll. Swallowing another deep breath, I leaned against the wall, using the solid surface for leverage. I pushed the other side with my elbow. The pain was nearly unbearable, but the conversation? I could hear it so clearly.

I could almost smell the dinner that we had been cooking that night. I had to stop for a moment. My breath coming in short, harsh gasps, but Chloe's sweet laughter pressed me forward. Just a little more, it said. With a war cry and another push, my ribs cracked. A sharp surge of pressure and agony, followed by relief. Surely that would create more space for sound.

A bit down hard on my lip, trying to distract myself from the throbbing of my side. blood dribbled down my side, the warmth welcome against my cold skin. Get me some more wine while you're up. Chloe's voice sounded so close. Ha! It was worth it. So worth it.

But I knew I could do better. After a short break, I decided. It took me nearly five minutes to process that sound that I was hearing was knocking. I rolled off the wall. The room swam with the sudden movement. When was last time I'd eaten? I couldn't remember. I gazed at my gift through the blood's spattered mirror.

It had nearly doubled in size, boasting the entire width of my fist now. The tongs dangled loosely from the hole, blood flowing down the handles. I yanked them out and tossed them on my bed. It had hurt, but it was worth it. I rubbed my thumb along the edges affectionately. The continued rapping interrupted my thoughts,

and I stumbled out of my bedroom, my feet slapping against the ice-cold floor. Movement hurt, but I ignored it. What time was it? Day was all I could gather based on the light seeping in. Shrugging on a dirty navy hoodie, I cracked the door. Megan's face, lined with worry, stared back at me. Thank God.

She pushed the door the rest of the way open and threw her arms around me. I bit back a yell. Her arms pushed against my sides painfully. I wiggled out of the hug quickly and stepped out of reach, making sure to face my right side away from prying eyes. Hey, I needed to make this interaction as short as possible. Every second I was away, I was missing precious memories. Moments that I had been gifted back.

How could I waste them on the likes of Megan? At best, a work friend. I'm telling you, V-U-E is not a word. A rush of adrenaline slammed into my veins. Could Megan hear my Chloe? Or was the gift for my ears alone? Did one have to be chosen, or could my moments be heard by everyone? I watched Megan's face, but she was distracted by this reality.

Where have you been? You haven't answered any of my texts or calls. She craned her head around me, looking deeper into my townhouse. I had no intentions of letting her off of the foyer, but she shouldered past me to my living room anyway. I moved quickly after her, staring at the small wet puddles she left in her wake. It must have been snowing out. That would explain why it was so cold in here.

I really could see my breath this time, I realized. Megan turned back and pulled off her gloves. Although she didn't say anything, I could see the statement in her eyes. Jesus, dude, what did you do to this place? I will bet you. Anything! If you're so sure, bet me! My voice echoed out of my side. Despite the chill, sweat poured down my face.

Where have you been? Everyone's worried. She turned her attention back to me. I rubbed the back of my head and my fingers came away greasy. How many days since I'd showered? I've been taking a hiatus. Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but consider your hiatus from Java Shack indefinite.

I think I can talk to Ronaldo about it, though, if you come in today. I shrugged, too distracted to follow what she was saying to me. You do want to keep your job, right? Megan searched my face, but I kept my eyes away from hers. In truth, there was nothing I cared about less. Could she not hear it? Maybe she thought it was my neighbors.

Oh, I'm confident, baby. If I win? Chloe's voice was all around us. Don't you hear that? I blurted it out, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. I don't hear anything. She hadn't even tried to listen. No, just...

Just listen. I held no. my hands up as if surrendering to the sound. Megan cocked her head to the side like she was a dog. If I win, you have to wear that shirt my mom bought you next time we go out to dinner. Chloe's voice was nearly deafening. Oh, we're evil, Clolo! I put my hands over my ears, and Megan looked at me as if I grew another head.

I really don't hear anything. Alex, how about you go take a shower and then I'll buy you some lunch? Megan's tone had taken a soft edge, as if I was something fragile that needed care. She took a step closer. She really couldn't hear it. These memories. This gift was meant for me alone. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Actually, I'm busy. Maybe next time, I'll call you in a few days. I was tired of this song and dance. I needed her to leave so I could get back to it. Okay, skip the shower. Let's just go grab some food. Or I could go get some groceries and cook you something. You do not look well.

I really don't. Please, Alex. I know you're not okay. Let me help. She moved to put her hands on my arms, and I jerked back. Are you bleeding? Her sharp eyes were focused on my side. The sweatshirt sucked inward, creating a clear outline of red.

I put my hand over it feeling the need to hide it. The edges of the hole shivered against my hand. I must protect my gift. Yeah, I nicked myself on a broken bottle. It's fine. Let me see. It's the same spot as that weird hole. Did it get worse?

It's fine. I want to see, Alex. She moved towards me. No! I shuffled away but was too slow. Her intruding, icy fingers lifted the hem of my sweatshirt. A cry left my lips as Megan tore the sweatshirt away. It had nearly fused.

to my body. Blood leaked down my side, staining the top of my sweatpants. Oh my God. I stumbled violently away from her, putting the length of the full room between us. Alex, I've never seen anything like that. You'd need to get to a hospital. Megan's eyes looked especially bright against the sickly gray of her face. She held her hand over her mouth as if she was going to be sick. What an ugly reaction to a beautiful thing. I love you, goofball. Get out of my home.

No, you need to get to a hospital. Megan pulled out her phone. I snatched it from her hands and flung it against the wall, shattering the display. How dare she try to take Chloe away from me. I love you too, Clolo. Get out! Although I could see her hands shaking.

Megan paused at the door. Her eyes stared into mine in horror. She opened her mouth to say something, but instead left quickly. I shuffled in my bed. It was over. She was going to call the paramedics or cops. Someone. Anyone.

Everyone? And then this would all be over. Maybe Megan was right, and that's what I needed. My gift had shown me the beauty that my life had once held. It could be that again. My fingers fell into what was once a daily routine. Blood made them slip, but there was no hesitation in my movements. I placed the phone to my ear.

The sharp bursts of ringing almost soothing. Her voice was soft and familiar. The breath I hadn't known I was holding whooshed out of me. Hey, I was suddenly unsure of what to say. I had been listening to us talk for days now. It was strange to have to fill a place in the conversation with new words. How are you? my ear strained against the phone, hoping to catch more subtle lines and communication.

A low chuckle, the sound of a smile, relief to talk to me, anything? Why are you calling me? She sounded tired. Chloe had never been tired with me, only happy. We were both so happy together. My thoughts were a twister, whirling in my head. I'd called her dozens of times before. Why had she picked up?

Maybe things weren't going so great with the new... guy. My mind began to create all sorts of scenarios. I miss you, Clolo. Can we meet? I missed her so goddamn much. Tears seeped from my eyes unbidden. Please don't call me that. And that's not a good idea. I felt her slipping away, away from the conversation, away from me. Please. I just want to talk. Please. I miss you so much. You're my everything. We were perfect. We were so perfect.

We were great together. I don't. I can't. What's my favorite book? What? My favorite book. Waiting for my response. Or even one of my top three.

What's my favorite food? Or color. Or anything. You like sunflowers. I knew her. I knew my Chloe. You like sunflowers, Alex. I like lilacs.

I told you that. At least a hundred times. We weren't good together, Alex. I loved you, but I felt like an accessory. You just wanted a girlfriend. Any girlfriend. I wanted you to see me. But you never did.

I didn't know what to say. She was wrong. So, so wrong. Please don't call me anymore. She hung up. I slowly dropped the phone for my ear. It was over. All over.

I nominally walked over to my bed and flopped down. My head hurt and I didn't want to think anymore. It was all too much. I listened passively to my and Chloe's laughs. We used to laugh so much together. This felt more alive and real than anything out there. This Chloe was more real. real than the one that rejected me.

And then it happened. The day I asked Chloe to be my wife. I could hear me tease her as she decided what dressed to wear to dinner. Wait. This didn't happen, I realized dully. I never got to propose. The ring still sat in its dusty box in the corner of my empty closet. But I remembered it so vividly.

My favorite. Oh, thanks, baby. I could smell the sunflowers that I knew I was handing her. stepping in front of my mirror I twisted to peer at the hole the blood had lessened to a trickle I had lost a lot my head was swimming but I focused as hard as I could staring into the darkness wishing I could watch this moment live it and then I saw it a light from deep within the hole

I pried awkwardly on the edges trying to widen it even more my nails dug into my flesh tearing at the edges of my gift Yes, there we were. Small, but visible. I recognized the shimmer of my Chloe's hair. I needed more. I gripped the edges of the hole and ripped outward. Sharp agony lanced through my side,

and the edges ripped under my dirty fingernails. Blood running anew down my ribs. But it was working. I needed more. The hole grew bigger. I could feel a physical vacuuming inward that wasn't there before. As my gift guided me, just a little more. Deep from within myself, I watched us eat dinner by candlelight.

Our first date spot? You're so cheesy, Alex. I remembered that, didn't I? I could see a serene smile on my own face. But it was almost like I could see Chloe through my own eyes. It was dizzying. I wrenched harder, blood making my fingers slip. Chloe, you mean the way.

world to me. You're my everything. My lips moved along to the speech. I began reciting the speech I had practiced for so long with perfection. My other's voice was drowned beneath my own, and suddenly I was there. Chloe's eyes shine with tears of happiness as I finished. I never want to live another day without you. I couldn't live without you. Will you marry me? Yes, a million times yes. Chloe nearly stomped on my feet to grab the ring and slip it on, a fragile gold band with an underwhelming diamond. She beamed at it with pride, but my Chloe would never mind.

She didn't need anything fancy. Then I was back, standing in my bedroom, the moment gone. The silence of my empty apartment was deafening. My side ached and bled, and I fell to my knees, unable to stand. stand any longer. It had been mine, hadn't it? For that moment, Chloe's eyes had stared into mine. I had been there. I needed that. I deserved that. Can't it be mine? It's always been yours, baby. I've always been yours. Chloe's voice sounded different for a moment. There was more of it. Magnetic. Her need felt physical, as if she was throwing her arms around me and

dragging me to her. What do I do? I'd give anything, anything. Just a little more, baby. Just open up a little more. I could see the edges shivering as they undulated and convulsed ever inward, beckoning me to never, never land. Of course, of course, I could do that. What could a little more heard? I'll be there soon, Glolo. I miss you, baby. I can't wait to see. I can't wait to See you. Now you see why I'm leaving. I found my piece of heaven, and I'm going to take it. I hope that you'll cheer for me, and I'll cheer for you too.

I think there's a little piece of heaven out there for everyone. I hope you find yours. See you on the other side. Alex. The spells are wearing off for now, but the magic will linger. The shop will be open again next week with more spells to enchant you. If you would like to find out how you can hear the full-length versions of our audio program, please visit the no-sleeppodcast.com to learn about our season past program.

On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening. This audio production is Copyright 2020 by Creative Reason Media, Inc. All rights reserved. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media, Inc.